Every gardener has stood at the edge of their yard—hose in hand, coffee in the other—frowning at that one awkward, uninspiring corner. You know the spot. You’ve planted it, re-planted it, maybe even added a few impulse buys from the nursery last weekend. Yet something still feels off. Somehow, despite your efforts, that part of the garden ends up looking more like a messy patch of green than a thoughtfully designed space. The flowers come and go, but when the blooms fade, all you're left with is a blur of random leaves.
This kind of garden frustration is incredibly common. Karen Chapman, a garden designer based in the lush Pacific Northwest, has seen it time and again. “People think they just need more plants,” she says. “But often what’s missing isn’t a plant—it’s a focal point.”
Focal points give the eye something to land on. They're the anchors that hold a garden scene together. Without them, even the most beautiful plants can feel like background noise. Karen often encourages gardeners to focus on three key areas: the entryway, the main viewing area (usually near a patio or porch), and the farthest visible point in the landscape. In each of these, a focal point can work wonders.
And it doesn’t have to be expensive or fancy. It could be a large, sculptural container filled with bold foliage. It might be a rustic trellis, a small bubbling fountain, or even a weathered bench placed just so. What matters is that it stands out—and draws the eye.
Karen recalls working with a retired couple in Eugene, Oregon. Their backyard backed into a wooded area often visited by deer. Frustrated by how their plants were constantly being nibbled, they had all but given up on flowers. Instead of fighting the wildlife, Karen helped them shift their focus. She placed a large copper orb in the center of their garden, surrounded it with a mix of deer-resistant plants like smoky-blue iris, burgundy-leaved weigela, and silvery sage. Even when nothing was in bloom, the space looked alive—with texture, contrast, and structure.
Sometimes the best focal points aren’t things at all—but spaces. A sunlit clearing, a framed view through an arch, or a simple grouping of stones can all serve as visual rest stops in the garden’s rhythm.
In fact, in wildlife-prone areas, Karen recommends designing with foliage first. Flowers are fleeting—and often the first to be eaten. But bold, beautiful leaves can last all season and beyond. Plants with strong scents, tough textures, or bitter sap (like lavender, peonies, and boxwood) are less tempting to deer. “I spent years planting for color,” Karen says with a laugh. “Then I realized the real secret was to plant for survival.”
These principles apply whether you’re working with an acre or a balcony. Take Charlotte, a photographer in London. Her entire “garden” is a small urban balcony, but it feels lush and layered thanks to one striking container at its center—a weathered clay pot filled with tall foxtail asparagus fern, surrounded by trailing ivy. Her friends joke that her balcony has more style than their whole yard.
The truth is, a garden isn’t just a collection of plants—it’s a sequence of scenes. Each corner, each viewpoint, is a chance to compose a little moment. A focal point is like a painter’s brushstroke that brings the whole image into focus. Whether it’s a vintage watering can tucked into a bed of ornamental grasses, or a quiet bench under a tree, these touches transform a space from a mishmash of greens into something that tells a story.
So next time you’re tempted to fill that awkward corner with another tray of petunias, pause for a moment. Ask yourself: Where does the eye go? What’s the frame, the shape, the feeling I want to create here?
Design doesn’t start with plants—it starts with how we see.